AN: Hello lovelies. This is a very AU oriented tale. I must warn you I will be taking quite a bit of creative license with our beloved characters here (e.g. V is not a beast in this story, however he still has his share of demons (And he's Canadian lol). Cat's parent's won't be the same ones from the show because I didn't want to attach anything negative to them etc.). You may notice some slight character tweaks - but they will certainly still be recognisable. I'd love some feedback about how you feel with this. If you like, leave a note in a review or PM me.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters

Happy reading!

Chapter 1 - Hard to ignore

This wasn't Catherine's idea of the perfect night out. But she had at least enough social skill to know that when a sister was celebrating their birthday, she should cheerfully chug along. For Catherine, cheerfully was the hardest part.

That ridiculous 'boots with the furrr' song was blaring. It always seemed to cause a warm blooded woman armed with a dance floor to completely let loose. Catherine never could understand it.

She could barely make out what Heather was saying in her usual perky, larger than life manner. She was urging Catherine to get up and dance with her. Catherine didn't dance at clubs, of coarse. The clubbing scene didn't attract the type of men she wished to have stalking her with their unrelenting eyes. Reluctantly though, she got up. Even she wasn't beyond using common courtesies. It was Heather's 25th birthday and Catherine didn't want to dampen her night; Heather cared a lot about what Catherine thought. Besides, no one could resist Heather's trademark puppy dog expression. Not even Catherine – the self trained emotional robot.

"You look amazing Catherine! About time I see you out of those hideous long kick boxing shorts!"

Catherine self-consciously brushed over her sleeveless jade buttoned up shirt and tapered black shorts. She forced herself to move to the beat, feeding off Heather's energy. She certainly felt out of her element, though she hid it well. The swarms of vultures had already begun to plan their attack strategy. What was it about her that always attracted unwanted attention? Her uncommonly sculpted body? If you asked her, it was just a body; with the same legs that carried all able-bodied people through life, with the same breasts simply designed to feed an infant. She actually expected the way she looked – thanks to years of Muay Thai training – to be a deterrent.

She couldn't breathe, she needed out.

"Want a drink Heath? girls?"

Catherine wrapped her arm around her bopping friend and offered a feign smile to the group. The girls were too engrossed in the music to take notice, and of coarse they were, they were warm-blooded women equipped with a dance floor. One discreet eye roll later, Catherine darted over to the bar for a drink.

"Coke, please." She shouted over the music and was still hardly audible.

The bartender returned Catherine's request with a puzzled look before handing her the drink. She hadn't been very interested in drinking anything harder than that these days. She preferred to keep her floodgates firmly shut, and was alcohol never helpful. Catherine always kept her composure; otherwise her defenses would surely crumble.

She took a sip of her much-craved beverage and rested her forearms on the bar. She peered at the young women and men around her; that is, women with skirts so short they could be charged for indecent exposure, and men with shirts unbuttoned at least three buttons too low.

And then she saw something else.

It felt like she was standing outside on a cold overcast day while the sun pierced through the clouds, warming her face and causing her to turn to admire it's soothing effect.

She gazed at him, her eyes unwilling to part from the sight of him. Her body slowly perked up when she became aware of the tingling reaction she was having in a place that hadn't been awakened for a long, long time.

Catherine looked away from the man's exquisite large hazel eyes that pierced through her when she realised she was gawking.

It didn't suit her, she wasn't that girl.

It didn't take long for her to look straight back though. Her eyes traced his strong chiseled jaw line and the soft light brown hair that was combed away from his face.

But when she finally looked back into his eyes, when she really actually looked at him, she realised that this beautiful man was gazing straight back at her, as though he'd been examining her for a while. Catherine knew that look all too well, but from him she welcomed and reciprocated it.

She was being completely shallow, she wasn't… that… girl.

His inviting mouth hinted at a suppressed grin.

Chocolate-coated strawberries.

Why couldn't Catherine stop thinking about chocolate-coated strawberries? She looked away again into her drink. She took a sip.

This was ridiculous, Catherine was being ridiculous.

This was not strong, dismissive Catherine standing in her black stilettos; this was a fiery woman who submitted to her primal instinct.

"Catherine!" The tipsy birthday girl twirled her way through the crowd toward the bar. "Get your ass back here! My favorite song is playing. Bang bang into the room!" she belted completely off key.

"Don't be a party pooper and poop all over my party!"

Heather looked somewhat irritated, but not surprised that Catherine would take any opportunity to have escaped.

Back on the dance floor and Catherine still couldn't ignore that it had taken a stranger all of one minute to penetrate her armor and fill her with want. She forced herself to remember that men and her didn't get along. Three failed relationships taught her that. They wanted her for her looks. They wanted more once they got a taste. But they always hit a brick wall when they wanted the level of affection Catherine couldn't give, that she was too damaged to give. Why would this be any different?

Catherine noticed a big grizzly looking man advancing towards her, trying to make his moves. He strutted through like God's gift to women. Catherine returned his brutish attempts to entice her with a cold shoulder, but he wasn't letting up. Catherine knew her tolerance limit was small, and her fist would find it's way onto his bulbous nose sooner rather than later. She tried to escape to the ladies room to avoid causing a scene, making her way alone. He blocked her path and was now more assertive in his advances. He gripped her arm and Catherine immediately tensed.

"Come on you sexy thing. Let me show you what I can do. You won't regret it".

He reeked of bourbon and exuded desperation. Catherine eyeballed a security guard standing near the toilets, and sure enough he came to her rescue. The security guard was not much for words; he walked forward into the sleaze until they were both out of her sight. The most infuriating part of it was that while all of this was occurring, Catherine was entertaining the thought of that stranger from the bar being the one to have rescued her.

She made her way outside to get some fresh air. She thought she'd pushed passed her comfort zone long enough. Catherine checked the time 1.45am, already? She was getting very tired, very quickly and desired for this night to be over.

Catherine noticed some heavy footsteps pounding the stairs of the main entry coming toward her. He'd followed her out, the sleaze ball. Apparently calling on a security guard wasn't a clear enough rejection. Catherine attempted to turn away and leave but he took a hold of her arm again. She looked down at his hand with disgust.

"I know you want me, I can tell by the way you look at me. Fuck you're hot, come here" he blurted before Catherine could open her mouth to abuse the fumbling oaf for laying a hand on her.

Adrenaline began pumping through her veins the way it did in the ring before a fight. She wanted to hurt this man.

"You have no idea how bad I could hurt you."

Catherine's threats were no deterrent.

"Fiesty. I like it." He laughed.

Before she attempted to strike him down, she noticed somebody behind the blundering beast. It was him. The gorgeous bar-goer tapped the aggressor on his shoulder and grabbed his shirt collar.

"Do you really think a woman like that would come to a club without her man, fuck face?"

The sleaze was visibly jolted by the strength in his grasp and raised his arms in surrender. He unashamedly took another long look at Catherine before stumbling off back into the club.

Catherine's heartbeat picked up pace and her body temperature rose. There he stood in all his glory, wearing dark washed jeans and a white linen v-neck shirt revealing lean ripped forearms. He was an icy cold glass of water on a scorching hot day. Catherine's mind began to venture past the boundaries of his shirt and she was losing herself in the thought.

"Hello." He smiled wide and Catherine's lips parted ever so slightly, in silent admiration.

"Hi." She returned, not nearly as welcoming, not quite sure how to reciprocate his warmth.

"Are you alright?" His Canadian accent, although subtle, struck her. His tone was deep and gritty.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I mean, lucky I'd never come to a club without my man. Right?" she teased.

He snickered under his breath and stepped in closer, leaving an arms length between them.

"Well that's how they do it in the movies isn't it? And it worked." He explained matter-of-factly.

Catherine ran her hand through her long black ponytail, trying to release some nervous tension, trying very hard to come across unaffected.

"That fool was eyeing you out all night… like everybody else in that club."

"Like you." Catherine injected.

"You got me there… to be honest, I couldn't help it. I tried to, believe me, but as a man who appreciates exquisite things, it was hard to ignore you." His tone was tender, as though he knew Catherine well.

Catherine giggled.

She immediately bit down on her full maple colored bottom lip, scalding herself. One complement and she was behaving like a crush-ridden schoolgirl.

His smile returned, this time Catherine noticed the prominent dimple on his right cheek that charmingly framed his grin. He referred to Catherine as exquisite, though he was the very incarnation of it.

"I'm Vincent, by the way."

He offered his hand, and Catherine took it. Her chest quaked with a shallow inhale. Never had a stranger's hand felt so good over hers.

"Catherine." She replied, their hands still entwined.

"Catherine." he repeated, cracking a wickedly sexy smile and taking a step closer toward her. She breathed in his cool fresh scent.

At this point, Catherine was pretty certain that she'd given up all hope of redemption. This man – Vincent – was going to get under her skin and live there until he'd done sufficient damage.

AN: Intrigued? Review! xox